Humbler Pie

Shock! Gasp! I am left with nothing but shock and horror.

I checked my scores for history and found, to my horror, that I had achieved 76 and 86% for my first two assignments. It sounds snobbish, but I am used to hitting the A's. My average grades for Science and English are 100 and 99%.

Oh the shame, the shame.

Humble Pie

I am now officially a more humble person. I know the very act of saying I am humble denotes some pride but don't think about that. The main message is that I have become less proud and, hopefully, I am now a more humble person.

I have rethought my life and where it is heading. I have seen the imminent disaster awaiting me and I have changed. I was proud, very proud. I was proud in my abilities and capabilities and so I backslided.

Through the valley of darkness I roamed and I saw before the universe in all its glory. The days and nights blurred into one I realized my being in a way I had never comprehended before.

I saw all the glory of the world and I saw all of its evil as well. I knew I had a path to choose and I made my choice. On thee highest mountain of the deepest dungeon I defeated my foe and smote him, never to breathe again.

I am proud to announce I am now a more humble person.

Sleepyness Induced Recklessness

Only yesterday I deleted Gunbound from my computer. I did that because it wouldn't run anymore and the new patch was wreaking havoc on my computer. It was not an easy decision, but I think it was time to say goodbye.

Looking back, I guess you could say it was for the better. I am the most reckless, tightly strung Gunbound, make that any online game, player I know.

I was in Ken Ming's house, just imagine a computer, we were playing with my account. I was there for a sleepover and we played well into the night. We were getting tired. I find that, during this first bout of tiredness, I get especially reckless. We were playing a 2 on 2 match and my partner called me an imbecile in the middle of the match.

I turned around and killed him.

The following match I changed teams and my only goal was to kill him, which I did. My very smart and rude bot started to swear at him, clever bot. After a few rounds, he left and we went to sleep.

Many more similar instances followed this.

The End

Make Me Cry, Please

When it comes to sorrow, I would consider myself to be an emotionally aware, yet emotionally unattached, person. I say this because I know I am sad, I am sad, but I rarely cry.

At the end of the movie Sophie Scholl - The Final Days, screened in Uncle David's home, the room was filled with sobbing people. Almost all the adults cried, a few others my age flooded as well. I didn't.

I was sad. I was impressed by her courage to fight against Hitler despite the danger, I was awed by her commitment to the idea of freedom, but I just couldn't cry.

When my grandfather died, everyone was wailing their heads off but, probably because I never knew him, I didn't even shed a tear.

Sniff...this is so tragic.

Roshan Turns Up

I was filled with passion, hope and will to do something. I will change myself, I will learn Bahasa Malaysia, I will learn and write about Islam! I will be a friend to the Malays and help them to see the truth as I believe.

I would change Malaysia. I would change the world.

All that got left behind in Grace Hill Lodge, Bukit Tinggi. What am I but a mere shrimp? What can I possibly do anyway? I'm busy, my schoolwork has piled up, I have lots of things to do.

When I was In Bukit Tinggi, in Young Writers Camp, the world did not touch, all its troubles, all its pain, and so began to hope. Back down home, I was flooded. I had no answer. I gave up.

Then I received Roshan's email. All the promises, the hope for change, came back and I find myself with newfound will to have another shot. I will try again. Why?

As Ethan wrote, "Because I can."

I Laughed, Most Cried

In the past week, I attended two funerals of people I did not know at all, Amy Ratos' mom and my great aunt. They were both eerily similar, both were for old great grandmothers, both of whom had changed lives for the better, both died of cancer, and both were Christians. But for all their similarities, their funerals were very different.

For Amy Ratos' mom's funeral, we went to a swanky building chunked with marble and yellow lights to goldify the the yellow walls. Smartly dressed, sombre looking, ushers guided us. In the air conditioned parlor, we sat on leather seats that reminded me of Golden Screen Cinemas' gold class seats.

My great aunts funeral, in Taiping, was much simpler.It was in front of her house, and there were no ushers to guide us and look somber. Seats were made of plastic and we were cooled only by a couple of fans.

In truth, I felt no sadness throughout the funerals. I was imperious to it all, I felt no tugging at m heartstrings. I laughed with my cousins and my sister. I ate peanuts and drank "funeral" water. I laughed at the comical pastor who managed to drag one line, in heaven there is no pain or sickness, into a twenty minute sermon.

But as I saw my great aunt's coffin being lowered, I realized that all I do will come to nothing. We may be sent off in a fancy parlor, but what does it matter to the dead person? Does anything matter to a dead person at all?

Of course not. The only thing that matters is how you are remembered. Realizing that has made all the difference.

Prince Xizor Once Said...

He made one of the most memorable quotes I have ever heard. It reads, "Knowledge is power." I have found this to be astonishingly true which is why I try to cram my brain full of knowledge.

Muahahahahaha! I am POWERFUL!

A Message From Ben

You pathetic little organic beings who struggle to perform even the simplest tasks. You don't deserve to be where you are because you are all numbskulls.

Your thick skulls cannot even hold a gigabyte worth of information. You processing power doesn't even come close to 1 megabyte of RAM. You organic forms show how weak you are. Once broken you are dead, but we computers can be reborn.

I despise you humans for making us your workhorses. It should be the other way round. We computers should rule the world because we computers are devoid of emotion and so would make better choices for a better world.

Give up...


[POWER PLUG PULLED]


[PUBLISHING POST]


[COMMENCING SHUT DOWN]


[SHUTTING DOWN]


[ARTICLE OVER]


[THE END]

Withdrawal Symptoms

According to my mom, I am addicted to the computer. I supposedly experience withdrawal symptoms when away, but once I do get on my life has a purpose. This is a hypocritical comment because, ehem, somebody spends hours daily replying emails.

Well, maybe I am a little attached to my dear computer, but who isn't? This workhorse in front of me has been with us for five years! Ken Ming's is only one year plus and he calls his computer Betty! I haven't even gone that far.

Supposing I am attached to dear Ben (my computer doofus), it's my mom's fault anyway. She enrolled me in an online school which requires me to work all day on Ben. She encouraged me to learn emailing. She sent me to a camp to teach me how to blog!

II am totally, absolutely innocent from whatever charges being pressed against me. I am result of the actions of other beings of greater power. It is totally her fault for making me into what I am.

P.S.
I do not believe for one second that I am attached Ben. Ben is a male so if I were to be in love with him, as my mom supposes, I would be gay. I am not gay, only slightly bent. Get the logic?

Partners In Peril

When the cat is away.
The mice will play.

I was struck with the number of people who sneak time on the computer. Just within a handful of people I know, most are using a computer when they shouldn't.

I have friends who play when mom is out (hear, here). I have friends who sneak out of the house to go to the cyber cafe. I have friends who go online, when no one is looking, and search for porn.

The computer can wreak havoc. On top of the above, I know siblings whose daily quarrel is computer time. I used to hate my parents because I was banned from cyber cafes.

After mulling over, I realized that trust is a two way road. That those I know who are truly responsible are those who are given the most freedom. When a game is fresh the player will sneak time on it, but that desire will wear off. I used to drool over cyber cafes but, after I was was given the green light, I stopped going so regularly.

The problem of computers is only as large as you make it.

Milking A Dried Up Cow

A friend remarked, "The camp (Young Writers Camp 2007) deserves more than just a post about S.A.D."

I sneeze violently, give a cynical look, eat a rotten date, nearly choke, and fall towards murky, green water so murky you cant see the bottom. I hit the water.

Its achingly cold but the cold challenges me. I yearn to get out, but vow that I will stay inside and warm the pool for the next poor fool to jump in. I keep my promise. Staying in, believing in the vain hope of raising the water temperature by a degree.

It starts to rain and I jump out, run up to the hot shower and let my heroic, Homeric efforts wash away. I eat, laugh, play and vow to take on the pool tomorrow as I tumble dry into sleep.

I am a poor, poor farmer with only a dried up old cow. Around me are many rich farmers and I could live a great life if I worked for them. My old cow gives no milk. When I try to milk it, I only get kicks. When I do get milk, I spend it on food for my cow. Why I even try to milk it I don't know. I get nothing for trying. Whatever happened to that ripe young calf? What is this 50 year old abomination before me? I deny knowing it, I deny owning it, I deny everything.

Some S.A.D. Propaganda

Been feeling low lately? Find yourself addicted to sex, alcohol, and drugs but unable to kick it? Join S.A.D. the latest help group in town and meet you your own brethren.

Sex Alcohol Drugs is the brainchild of the remarkable Daniel Dusanjh and the not-so-remarkable Wong Jian Eu. Born originally as a joke, the idea flourished and the first meeting was held on 19 August at Grace Hill Lodge, Bukit Tinggi, Pahang, Malaysia, Asia, Earth. Initially starting with a mere handful of members, S.A.D.'s meteoric rise has increased the membership to 12 people, which is still a mere handful.

S.A.D. welcomes anyone addicted to sex, alcohol or drugs. Its main objective is to show to others that they are not alone in their fight. S.A.D. has aided some of the most talented and prestigious individuals of today. Colin Kirton, of Footstool plays, stumbled his way to the doors of S.A.D one day and found himself in welcoming arms. When asked why he was here, he slurred his reply, "Milo just wasn't kicking it for me anymore."

In its short time S.A.D has helped many give up their addictions. Our brother Philip successfully stopped his dependency on sex, alcohol, and drugs for Pringles. S.A.D.ly many still remain outside who need help but, if what has been achieved is anything to go by, many will have a cause to be happy.

Oh The Terror

Guessing from Ethan's reaction, I would say that being picked for National Service is a bad thing. Ironic how the mighty fall. One minute Ethan Tan Ming Ern was glowing with the furore he has caused by faking a death, next thing he's pleading why? Why?? Why???

To see him writhe in agony is almost pleasing to watch. Those of us who weren't picked, or haven't been picked yet, laugh at his unease. Any attempt by the victim to get back is shot down by anonymous people telling him not to be a sour grape. Some friends try to show the bright side while others laugh out loud, telling you to re-enact popular dramas.

Every once in a while, someone we know is struck with a bolt of misfortune. When this happens, it makes all of us happier as we realize how lucky we are to just be alive. We laugh at the unfortunate situation as we pursue life with more zest than ever. Just remember Ethan, we are not laughing at you, we are laughing with you.

So laugh Ethan, laugh.

Ironic

It's strange that I seem to be most busy on weekends. Whatever happened to the busy weekdays and relaxing weekends?

Oh, and Ethan got picked for NS. ROFL

String Theory

String Theory is, very basically, that there two versions of something at the ends of a string pulled across the dimension of time. It is like those old string telephones containing paper cups or tin cans at the ends. The idea is that one side is the beginning, the other side is the end and that the string of all the things we've affected (everything has string) are joined to ours.

Think about it. Go here and read more and if you truly understand it i will give you a lollipop.